


kiss the sun ;; thank the moon

by Faetality



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Introspection, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Valentine's Day Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faetality/pseuds/Faetality
Summary: "You're ridiculous""You're beautiful"





	kiss the sun ;; thank the moon

**Author's Note:**

> Some Valentine's Day loveliness.

Golden light cast the room into a soft glow. Warm skin took on the shine of adonis, swathes of gold broken by silver lines- like a satin gown sewn over with the story of a life well lived. Strength lay beneath that deceivingly delicate shawl. Delicately, fingertips trace the lines of the picture presented to them. Gently working up to brush through salt and pepper hair softer that it seemed. The body moves with a noise of contentment. Twists and rolls toward him, tangled in the silk sheets. Fingers brush down over the sharp line of his nose, knuckles dragging across the harsher stubble along the strong jaw. Blue eyes open. Blue that was so light it was as if the sky herself lived within them, sometimes clouded with the gray of a coming storm or the darkness of twilight come quick. Smooth muscle stretches out, chapped lips part and a rumble rises from him. A low gravel-rough laugh that shook the frost from long sleeping flowers and made them bloom from beneath the snow. 

A calloused palm pressed against his own, fingers wound together and laid between them. “What are you doing, Peter?” 

“Memorizing this moment.” his own voice is hardly a whisper, fragile as though he may break the moment and wake from whatever dream he’d found himself in. Christopher’s other hand came to touch his cheek, hands that had worked and killed and saved since before they had finished growing. Hands that had carried and loved and held him like something precious when faced with the sins he had committed. Hands that never hesitated. A thumb strokes his cheek. 

“You’re ridiculous.” but he seemed to understand, because his voice was much the same. Peter drags his lips against Christopher’s palm. Never dropping his gaze.

“You’re beautiful.”  _ Strong. Proud. Vulnerable. Loved. So very loved.  _

“Shut up.” 

“It’s true.” If he had to say it a thousand times, in a thousand different ways, with his words, his hands, with his very last breath he would do so. “I love you.” 

Eyes crinkle at the corners. His smile is soft, as though he wasn’t allowed such things, as though he expected this moment to disappear just as much as Peter.   “I love you too.” 

His lips are dry against Peter’s own, chapped from the cold that hung in the air for weeks now. But he melted beneath him, accepting of what he was given and kissing back far more sweetly than he deserved. Chris kissed him like he was meant to be cherished. Parting was not a farewell, a natural break that was more like coming home when their foreheads pressed together. Peter wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to curl in the warmth of the moment and stay there until the world went away. Until even the darkest of nights dared not touch what they had built between them.

 

Instead he pressed his lips against the sun kissed skin; and thanked the moon for what he had been given.


End file.
